


Let Me Be Your Mark

by Prx_Rec



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Based on real life experiences, F/M, Main character is named, My First Fanfic, Yet based off real people, aka not, all the oc's, alternate universes also might appear, bad spelling, but crush is evident real quick just nothing actually happens for awhile, get ready for romance, i'm too impatient, its gonna take awhile, lied about the romance, not reader formatted, oh oh oh I've sinned, ooh now we've got kissing, other characters might appear, some harrassment, watch out for those nasty typos, we'll see how this goes, will add tags as I make this, wow this tag thing is fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-29 22:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12640878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prx_Rec/pseuds/Prx_Rec
Summary: So I'm a Peace Corps Volunteer.Doing service for the good of the world, yada yada.Theeeen, I found a skeleton under my bed.What now?Did I forget to mention, it was a LIVE tallking skeleton?(based off real experiences with some undertale fiction weaved throughout to help me cope, haha)





	1. Well then, this is new.

Living as a Peace Corps volunteer can be really tough. Not everyone makes it. Some countries are easier than others, some projects are more feasible than others. But the hardships are all the same. Being away from home. Struggling with a new language thrust upon you. Having to adapt to an entirely alien culture while keeping in mind that you have very alien and different perspectives and morals yourself due to living in America. And there is the fact that we all have different hardships of our own that we have to face, which none of us should ever forget.

So not all who volunteer can complete the service. Those of us who ET (still don’t know what that means, as there are so many acronyms its ridiculous), who exit their service before their contract is finished, could go home for a number of reasons that vary from person to person. It could be due to safety reasons, medical, luck, and they could derive from your country of service, or from back home that demands you to leave and never return (unless you try and give the rigorous application system another go).

Whether you stay and complete your service or leave a little earlier, any amount will most assuredly leave its marks. Most are unintended, and can be either negative and positive. One example being a physical mark from injury, like an oil burn when trying to cook a native dish with your host family for the first time. Other marks are more hidden yet effect us more deeply in our souls. Everyone sadly gets a scary encounter dealing with a corrupted official which will make you doubt and judge others ever faster. Yet some are lucky to have been completely and whole-heartedly accepted as “Daughter” or “Son”, “Sister” or “Brother” to their host family. See? In all aspects of life, wherever you go you bring a little something to the next place with you.

Then there are those that are intential, and hopefully all are positive. A common mark is a cheap tattoo to commemorate good times made, like the first Christmas spent away with family but with dear friends who you can rely on and have their support. Another mark is what drives people to do this volunteer work, a mark they are hoping to attain and will help them learn and grow to be better people. A mark that I intended for. 

A couple years out of college, struggling to find that purpose in life while also trying to find a job (or few) that will help support me and eventually help pay off my loans, I was nearing the end of my rope. So what do I do? I shove everything to the side, my worries to the back of my brain and said Fuck it! That can all wait until after this service of going completely out of my comfort zone, and traveling a bit would be pretty damn cool. And heck, we’re paid too! Just a little. Just enough to survive off of. But enough. And maybe I can learn a little while doing it. Build up some confidence and all that jazz.

I expected being away from home and not having the luxuries of a stove or flushable toilet to be difficult. I didn’t expect the immersion into another culture and community to be even moreso. But I was prepared, even excited, for the marks I would have on my body and soul from this experience. 

However.

I was certainly not expecting, nor prepared.

To find a skeleton under my bed.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________

“heya.”

My dog, Mabula, is still barking at the bare-bone face peeking out from under my bed frame. All I can think about is that it must sure be pretty damn disgusting under there. That’s where I keep some of my bags and boxes I rarely dig into, because any space in the tiny brick house my community built for me had to be crammed with something. And there was probably lots of dust, dead bugs, hairballs, dust bunnies, and probably a few cat poops because the two kittens I had were still learning not to shit everywhere and I’m not always ready to deal with the sad news that, no, they’re still not house-trained.

Needlessly to say more, its probably VERY nasty under there. And that’s all I can think about as I stare into what appear to be two soft glowing orbs of light originating from the otherwise pitch black sockets staring up at me. Two sockets that blink.

That blink breaks me out of my stupor as I hurriedly try to shush my dog. I’ve never liked bringing attention to myself. And here in my country of service, even less so, as life of a volunteer is likened to that of a fishbowl. You’re the center of attention and everyone likes to watch and question your every movement. I get Mabula to be quiet for only a few seconds to where she’s just growling at the intruder (a guard dog and only 7 months old), and she’s back to barking. Taking a quick glances at the orbs, which are back onto Mabula, I let her go to take the few short steps to my door to lock it, then go to each of my tiny windows to shut them closed. My house is only three rooms and two hallways, with a thatch roof and a plastic undercovering to grab any moistures that break through during the rains. Right now, the plastic is rattling like crazy as we’re just about to hit our rainy season and storms have started to come and go like clockwork. Outside it’s gray, windy, and showing signs it’s about to rain. Ah, and now there’s thunder. Yep, definitely going to rain, which will hopefully encourage everyone in my village to retreat into their houses and not investigate as to what’s happening in the musungu’s hut right now. [musungu = foreigner]

Locking the door (a simple slide latch that’s in dire need of repair) and closing the windows only took at most five seconds and I’m back down the tiny hallway leading to my indoor bathing area and my bedroom. I sit by Mabula and urge her to quiet again. I don’t look at what’s under my bed again. Not yet at least.

“Mabula, Mabula, ssshhhh, no. It’s okay. Ssssshhhh.” I gently grab her mouth to hold it closed, then I direct her eyes to look at me.

“Ikala,” I command. She sits, thankfully. “Panshi,” I say as I point to the ground. She lays down next to be knees. At this I sigh in relief, but she’s still gowling and trying to woof through her lips. [Ikala = Sit, Panshi = Ground]

“interesting words you’re using there.”

I hear that voice again. It was deep and gravelly, but not rough. Reminded me more of smooth stones rumbling together that had been steadily worn down by river water. I steel myself and look up again.

The skeleton hadn’t moved. Probably didn’t want to chance an encounter with a seemingly hostile animal. Smart. But what was it doing here? 

Rather than freak out anymore, I try to maintain a façade of calm in the hopes that Mabula would copy me. I reply matter-of-factly, “It’s the local language. For this area technically. There are over 70 languages in Zambia, each of which have their own dialects. Thankfully this is one of the most common. It’s called Bemba. Useless in any part of the world except for here.”

While I state this, I study the face still peeking from behind my tent bag. It both looked and didn’t look like a skeleton. What I thought was bare-bone was more akin to a porclein flesh that stretched over a wide grin as I gave my mini-lecture.

“still useful here then. no bones about it,” it said cheekily, giving me a wink to further the humor. 

While still suspicious, my mouth does quirk up a bit in a smile. I can’t help it. I love to smile and laugh, so even the smallest and stupidest of jokes are worthwhile to me. At my reaction, the skeleton seems to relax the smallest degree and its -His? It sounded male- smile reaches a little farther toward his eye sockets.

I clear my throat, “You should probably get out of there and introduce yourself proper. That way my dog can relax. Don’t worry. She’s never bitten anyone.” I’m actually quite proud of myself. Still haven’t started freaking out yet. At least not outwardly. I guess the fact at anything new is a welcome distraction to my life at the moment. And the fact that I’m still not sure if this is all real.

The skeleton nods at that and slowly shimmies out from under my bed, pushing my tent and a few boxes out of the way to do so.

I stand up and with a quiet command of “Isa,” I pull Mabula back into the hallway (you don’t understand how tiny these rooms are, my bed fills up most of my bedroom space) and just continue to watch what unfurls from the dark under my bed. [Isa = Come]

What comes out seems to be quite the normal and modern brand of clothing one would typically see on a guy in America, or at least on a guy having a lazy Sunday. Just a blue zip-up hoodie over a white t-shirt for the bodice, and then just simple black basketball shorts with white lines down the sides for bottoms. And as for shoes… pink fluffy slippers? All in all, it seemed like a normal person just pulled himself off the floor to stand in front of me. If it wasn’t for the tons of dustmotes covering his persona, and the fact that his persona was comprised of actual bare skeletal limbs and such, I might have been less surprised. But only a tad so. If it was an actual ordinary guy, I would be flipping shit and kicking said guy in the balls.

After dusting himself off a bit, he straightens himself to look me once again in the eye. Extending a hand out, he introduces himself finally.

“name’s sans. sans the skeleton.” And thunder and lightening crash at that very moment.

Well that’s not ominous at all, is it?

Carefully I extend my hand to grab his in return.

“Hi. I’m-,” and just as I squeeze his hand do I hear a very loud and abrupt, “PPPPPPPPPPBBBBBBBBBFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT.”

Why that made me jump and not the thunder, I still have no idea.

I yank my hand back in surprise, Mabula gives a sharp bark, and shortly after a deep reverberating chuckle emmanates from the skeleton.

“heh heh heh. whoopie-cushion in the hand trick. works every time,” Sans says in quiet mirth.

I don’t laugh, but I do smile as I’m not going to let any reason to pass by me. Like I said before, I love to smile. Makes me happy.

He give me another wink and crouches down low to Mabula, who gives a low growl uncertainly.

Sans slowly extends his hand for her to sniff, talking softly, which in his voice just sounds like a big comfy blanket that threatens to surround you in warmth and never let you go. 

“heya there, pup. i’m not going to hurt anybody. i’m your pal. ya see?” Sans says softly, remaning still and allowing Mabula to go to him instead.

I utter to Mabula in reply, “It’s okay, Mabula. It’s okay.” I pet her repeatedly and calmy, urging her forward a bit.

After some uncertain sniffs, and then a tentative lick, Mabula’s tail begins to wag.

“There we go, good girl! Good girl, Mabula!” I say with obvious happiness and pride. I don’t know why I’m so happy she’s so accepting of this strange man, er, skeleton, but I already feel like I can trust him.

Encouraged by both of our reactions, Sans eagerly reaches forward to start petting Mabula and rub her ears. His smile quirks up in the side in simple contentment at winning the trust of a loyal animal.

“Careful,” I warn with a mischievious smile, “Now that you two are friends, she’s gonna want to drown you in kisses.” At this Sans glances up at me, quirking a browbone(?) at the insinuation.

That was a mistake, any eye not on Mabula gives her a window for the lunge. Quick as a snake, she lunges forward and starts licking all she can reach. Which is quite a lot since the face is on her level.

I let my pup freely tackle the poor skeleton to the ground, giggling to myself at Sans’ plight as he scrambles to try and create some distance between him and the slobbering hound trying to taste the inside of his eyesockets. 

Suddenly Mabula glows a bright blue and is lightly, but quickly shoved away by an unseen force. I halt my mirth in surprise in seeing a separate blue glow shining like fire from Sans’ left eyesocket. The other was devoid of all light, including his normal white orbs. I gasp and slam my body against the hallway wall, then quickly crouch to hold Mabula as the blue glow faded as quickly as it formed.

“sorry! i’m sorry! i didn’t hurt her! i’m not going to hurt ya! i just needed some space to breathe and it took me by surprise is all!” Sans says in a rush, throws his hands out in the air to placate and show he meant no harm.

I stare at him wide-eyed, mouth wide open and gaping like a fish out of water. Mabula, not concerned in the slightest, squirms in discomfort of me holding her too tightly. I let her go, and she walks nonchalantly to her water bowl for a refreshment. I just continue to stare at the skeleton before me.

This is a SKELETON, in my HOUSE. A living talking skeleton. How could I just simply gloss over this fact?! And now he can do magic?! 

Just about anything mentioned above would give anyone in my village reason to kill me and destroy Sans as witchcraft is seen as VERY taboo!

Oh gawd. The panic is setting in now.

I’m breathing fast and quick, hands clutching my hair, knees curled into my chest as I stare at the floor.

I chance a look up at Sans and my breathing halts altogether.

His face is crestfallen. The lights in his eyesockets so dim I can barely see them but they’re there. His hands once outstretched to me have now fallen to his side as his whole body is seeming to collapse in upon itself while his back leans up against my bed. He’s head is curled toward his chest and his body is half turned away from me, as if ashamed of even existing.

I can’t help smiling easy at silly things. And I also can’t help comforting those who hurt worse than I do.

I uncurl myself from my position in the hallway, and steadily, quietly, crawl the single meter separating us, and lean against the bed as well. When my shoulder lightly brushes his own, this time he jumps in surprise and looks to me in astonishment.

I give a small timid smile and say softly, “I’m not afraid of you.”

Sans blinks. His odd malleable yet porclein skin(?) comes down to meet his cheeks, hiding the depths of his giant eyesockets and then coming up to reveal those shining orbs again, orbs that seemed just a tad bit brighter and clearer than a few moments ago.

“huh?” He merely says.

Wanting to clarify, to make him at ease (cuz that’s just me), I explain further.

I look away to stare at my wall. “I’ve always been one to hope for something new to happen. For something strange, fantastical, something that couldn’t really be explained, something magical,” I say softly.

“But I don’t ever say it out loud, cuz honestly people just don’t do that else they want to be ridiculed for it,” I continue demurely. “So when I saw you I couldn’t decide whether to feel scared, relieved, or excited. Honestly at first, all I could feel was shame at how nasty the undercarriage of my bed probably is. And right now. I’m desperately hoping it’s not a dream.” I turn my head to glance out of the corner of my at at Sans. He’s still just staring, but the corner of his mouth is starting to turn up and his eyelights are getting bigger. 

I turn my head away again shyly and continue in a rushed voice, not helping but continue to blather on. “At the same time, if it isn’t a dream, then I gotta keep this so underwraps if we want to stay alive cuz if anyone in my village catches even the slightest whiff of you or your magic, then we’re both dead anyway. We are in a third world country after all. So not that I’m ecstatic to have such a visitor like you here, but this is gonna create a whole slew of problems, again not that I blame you whatsoever! Trouble always find a way of getting to me. But not that you’re trouble! You’re awesome! But we still gotta be careful while you’re here.”

My hands are wringing themselves at this point as my mouth just keeps on running, at which point a skeletal hand reaches over to grasp mine and get my attention. I stop finally, take a calming breath and then look to him straight while grasping his hand in both of mine.

“It’s not that I’m afraid of you, its that I’m afraid for you. You understand?” I state clearly.

Sans by now has a blown out grin again, eyelights bright and distinct, and do I even spot a feint blush? Is it blue?

He lets out another chuckle, this one feeling more genuine than all the others before it.

“yeah, kid. i get ya. and thanks,” he lets out with a small sigh.

Letting go of his hand but feeling relief myself and more confident of the situation, I rest my hands and the side of my head on my knees while giving him my best smile, “You’re very welcome Sans.”

At this, his smile falls a little as his eyes widen a bit, surprised for some reason. Did his blush deepen more?

With a shake of my head, I move to stand and then reach a hand down to help up my fellow bipedal companion. With a bit of a heave (this skeleton being a little heavier than I thought), we’re now both standing by the small entryway to my hall. The blush was no longer present. Huh.

“So, can I give you the grand tour?” I ask as a bit of a joke since one can tell how tiny the place is just by looking up, but if Sans was going to be here any amount of time, he should be familiar and I had no qualms of people looking around. I had dubbed my home as the “Transit” house for my fellow volunteers as where I’m located makes for an easy place to stay the night beofre catching buses to anywhere. Not 100 meters from the main tarmac and just 5 kilometers from the nearest large market.

Sans just smiles and says, “how about your name first? didn’t quite catch it earlier.”

I roll my eyes and smile ruthfully, “It’s Katie.”

Sans extends his hand again as if to shake. I look at it and quirk my eyebrow at him.

“heh heh, don’t worry. no tricks this time,” he assures me.

I nod and grab his hand. Without any distractions I can the bones of his hands feel like how they look. Like warm porclein recently baked, but smooth to the touch so the hardness of bone isn’t noticed by the lack of soft muscle. His hand envelopes mine comfortably. A good handshake.

“nice to meet you, katie. i’m sans.” This guy just never stops smiling does he? I wondered if it was by choice or not, but decided that’s a question for another time. And besides, I liked his smile.

When we part hands, Sans asks me one more thing.

“so katie. we’re friends now right?”

I nod with a smile, “Yeah, of course! I don’t see why not.”

He give me smirk and says, “so since we’re friends, aren’t ya gonna wanna ‘drown me in kisses’?”

My smile drops. Or I force it too. Cuz goddammit he got me. I turn away from him and flop onto the bed with a groan. No, I was not desperately trying to hold back giggles.

“That’s it. No more tour for you. You’re on your own. Good luck navigating the spices. I’m going to bed early. G’night,” I mumble from the pillow hiding my flushed face.

“aw c’mon, katie. heh. no need to be salty about it. *snrk* oh sorry, was that not very oregano of me? eh, don’t worry, i’ll keep’em cumin,” Sans snickers at me while rattling off as many puns as fast as he can. And I know I’m encoruaging him because though my face is hidden, my shoulders are shaking with barely restrained laughter. I could already tell, that I was gonna have a bad time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So uuummmm, might rush the romantic storyline a little fast. I just want to be best friends with Sans already gosh darnit!! Anyway, wow! Already got four kudos and a bookmark! and some hits! Like, there are four people in the world, that like my stuff? And one person is waiting for more?? WHat????  
> (bcnadkglegjkgmmcvmcnvsjkjh)  
> (can't deal)  
> (honestly have been checking to see if the hits go up every day)  
> (I squealed when it went up from 34 to 39)  
> (hell yes)
> 
> So enjoy!!! Got three chapters coming at ya! These next two short, and the fourth long like the first! (if you count six pages as long... amatuer)   
> Yeah, whipped them all out cuz I'm excited! See you next time.
> 
> (if you leave a comment on how you feel about this, positive or negative, I'm gonna flip my shit either way)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I also don't know how to italicize on here. Any words that have been capitalized when they look like they shoudn't means they were italicized on my word doc.

Chapter 2  
Those first few days were very odd at first, disregarding the fact that I had a living monster in my house. Yeah, not just a random skeleton by a monster skeleton. One of only two of a kind. Sans made sure to clarify that when I first referred to him as a revived magical Human skeleton. He made sure to correct me that he was in no way related to Homo sapiens and the creatures that had sent his entire species underground to rot away in the dark for thousands of years.

We were sitting on the reed mat on my concrete floor leaning enjoying a cup of tea -and at Sans’ behest, a cup of coffee- as I still hadn’t gotten around to ordering any furniture from my local carpenter (Sans gave a proud nod, “laziness at its finest.”), when I asked him how old he was. He just waggled his browbones at me and then gave me a mischevious smirk saying, “Old as Balls.”

I snorted so hard at that, my tea reappeared through my nose. Sans’ smirk was gone in a flash and a panicked look came over his face when I started crying pitifully at my then scalded nasal cavity. He had quickly placed a glowing green thumb and index finger on the bridge of my nose to which I suddenly felt a cooling snesation spread from it to soothe the pain.

My eyes crossed to look at the glowing appendages in my face, then uncrossed to stare at Sans’ face. One eyesocket was devoid of light while the other glowed a brilliant cyan, tints of blue mixing with yellow throughout the single glowing orb.

That orb flicked up to my eyes for the briefest of moments and upon meeting my stare, quickly rushed back down to my nose, a slight blush spreading across his cheekbones.

The cooling sensation faded as did the green glow. But before he left my face, Sans’ pinched the end of my nose and then held up a clenched hand triumphantly.

“heh, got your nose,” he said with a casual grin, his simple white eyelights present in each socket once again.

I huffed at him. “Well that’s just cheating,” I said. “You don’t even have a nose.”

“Smells like someone’s jealous. but who Nose? i could just be Sniffing things that aren’t even there,” Sans added with a smirk, contemplating his still clenched hand.

Fighting terribly to hold back a smile, I glared at him while crossing my arms.

“I’m not playing this game.”

He looked back at me with a raised browbone. That smirk ever damn present.

“ain’t that a shame. well, nose sense wasting a good snack then,” he uttered out right before opening his mandibles wide, revealing sharp back canines, and to your continual surprise, a glowing blue tongue. Then Sans mock-threw my “nose” into his mouth, gulped theatrically and sighed while patting his belly.

“ah, I’m all Stuffed up,” he drawled out satisfyingly.

Not being able to resist stupid fun, I finally gave in and gaped at him in mock indignancy. 

“GASP, how dare you eat my nose! I don’t have any more of those you know!” I threw back at him. “Guess I’ll just have to retaliate!” I threatened.

Sans just watched me with a lazy grin, but I could tell he was happy I had joined in. Even in the short time I’ve known him, I noticed his eyelights sparkle just a tad bit when he’s honestly enjoying himself.  
Hesitating for only the briefest of seconds -what can you steal from a skeleton- I just threw caution to the wind and myself onto Sans, hands covering his eyesockets.

“Hah!” I triumphantly yelled, “I’ve got your eyes!”

Sans made to back away, but I didn’t give in that easily. I followed his form till he lay flat on the ground with me over him, hands still placed over his eyesockets.

“kiddo, this ain’t fair. I don’t even have eyes!” Sans whined as he grabbed my wrists in an attempt to free himself.

“I don’t see the problem here,” I almost whispered to him, which then led me into making a silly over-the-top maniacal laugh of some sort. “Muah ha ha ha haaaa!”

“heh, oh geez,” Sans snickered. “guess you saw right through me.”

The fake evil laugh transformed into a giggle as my resolve to maintain my hold of him faltered the slightest bit.

Waiting for that weakness for laughter to appear, Sans struck as he lifted my hands up and away from my face to see my properly. Unfortunately, with nothing to prop me up, my body came crashing down to slam onto Sans chest-to-chest, whooshing the air about of both of us.

“Oof!” “ack!”

As I was gasping for air, I tried mumbling apologies to Sans. Yet when I looked up, all I saw was a brilliant blue encompassing Sans’ entire skull.

“Um, Sans?” I questioned.

He didn’t respond. I attempted wriggling my arms out of his grip, but he seemed catatonic. His rib cage was starting to dig mainly into my own, not too mention the uncomfortable feeling of my breasts being smashed. 

“Um Sans? Mukwai?” I tried again, “I can’t get up until you let go of me.” [Mukwai = typical term of respect, or to get someone’s attention]

At that he jolted back to awareness, dropping my limbs as if they were on fire, and then going limp and resuming his coma-like state. With shrug, I finally sat up and then peered at his face a little closer.

“Oh would you look at that! I did steal your eyes!” I chuckled to retain the humor of only a few moments ago. Sans’s eyesockets were now Both devoid of any light.

I thought, “Huh, maybe I’m heavier than I thought.”

After a few more attempts to revive him, Sans eventually just closed his eyesockets and snored. I had thought, well, that was that, and went to work on preparing for my HIV/AIDS Preventative Measures workshop. By that point I was also used to Sans’ inabaility to stay awake after staying in one place for too long. I tended to have the same problem in my college classes. When he finally came to, it was like nothing happened and he continued to explain the rest of his people’s story.

That was three weeks after he first arrived, and it’s been two weeks since that happened. The only noticable difference between before and after was that as time went on, as I left my little house to bike to different workshops all over my district and beyond, whenever I came back it seemd like we were getting steadily closer. But since then, things have been stagnant. We’re still pretty close. Kind of have to be when living in such close quarters. And we do share the same bed comfortably. I had ordered a bigger size to begin with in case of friends coming over to visit. But it seems we have reached a limit.

However, where we are is just fine. He jokes, he smiles, he makes me laugh, tells me stories of his friends back home, and I tell him mine (there are a lot of hours in the day when you can only fill a couple at a time), we both took great naps, and together we are able to hold back the monotony that can come from living in a small community, where it often feels like you’re living the same day over and over again.

It was two months to the day of first setting eyes on his skulking form beneath my bed, when I left to go to a fellow volunteer’s site 30 kilometers away, to help teach about compost and gardening, when things took a bit of a turn…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaat??? I can do cliff-hangers?
> 
> But Rec, we only just got through Chapter 2.
> 
> Um, yeah. Guess I'm a bit of a drama sleaze.
> 
> Who knew?
> 
> I didn't.
> 
> Hush you.
> 
> Okay, bye! See you in a few minutes!


	3. Seriousness - Oh dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for physical harrassment  
> Like I said before, this is all based on a Peace Corps Volunteer experience, the good and the bad.  
> This does in no way reflect upon a single country, just that sometimes bad things happen, and they can happen anywhere.
> 
> Gonna have to change my archive warning now... dammit  
> Well, that is to be expected based on what happens NEXT chapter, muah ha ha ha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the italicized problem? Yeah, still dealing. Capitalized words - italicized

Chapter 3

First let me say, that my HIV/AIDS educational workshop was a success. I had the same fellow volunteers from 30 kilometers away help to lead it and they brought their counterparts (a local that is willing to learn and work personally with a Peace Corps Volunteer) to help translate and help us foreigners get across that language and cultural barrier. There were a lot of questions, some tensions when they thought the material wasn’t appropriate for the children present, but after explanations on my part (about how though they won’t understand it now, repetition of this information is better to have now than to need it later and not have it) my community welcomed and tried to understand the knowledge given to them. My own host mother even got out her notebook to copy the information down so as to educate and therefore protect her children and grandchildren from HIV and AIDS for years to come. She then revealed to me how her own brother and sister take the medicine for HIV and that is a big step of showing how much she trusts me. It’s a big issue of being afraid of knowing and then revealing your status as it can lead people to shun you.

So with high hopes, I traveled to my friend’s site about an hour and half bike ride from mine, far out in the bush. This volunteer was not skilled in teaching composting and gardening like some projects of Peace Corps Volunteers are trained, so in return she would come to my site to help teach a subject in which I wasn’t trained in. It is up to us volunteers to stick together and support one another. We are all we have in this strange country. Well, not anymore for me anyway, haha. I g=have a certain punny fruend waiting for me at home.

Upon arrival, there was an even mix of both men and women (made me jump for joy inside at women empowerment!) and after a lot of labour of gathering materials and then demonstrating how to use them personally to show that yes, foriegners are strong and capable too, a lot of good questions were asked and altogether the people showed they understood the material, that they know how to apply it, and that they were very excited for me to return to teach again. I left my friend’s site on high spirits with the sun shining on my back, the clouds dotting the beautiful blue sky, and a great music playlist jamming in my ears. Many days, service can be so fulfilling and wonderful. Like you know you’re making a difference and its worth the struggles to be here. But then at other times, life decides to smack you while you’re not looking, and leave a mark.

My hands were shaking as I was undoing the lock to my door. My heart was thundering in my chest, my breathing erratic, my mouth pressed into a tight line, and my eyes wide and dry only from force of will. 

The stupid damn lock finally unlatches but the bolt of the door now refuses to budge. Frantically I wiggle and pull until it finally comes loose, and the bolt comes out of the door altogether.

Flabbergasted I just shove open the door and toss the bolt in a corner to deal for later. I’m about to go outside to grab my bike when the door is shut before me and bony arms encircle me tightly. I try to jerk away on reflex, recent memories instilling fear of the idea of being touched, my left arm pulsating and bruised from where He grabbed me. I keep wriggling, panick starting to set farther into my mind, but then a blue glow surrounds me, makes me heavy, and when I realize who is with me, I just collapse. 

Sans follows me to the ground, still holding me tightly, head tucked into the crook of my neck and shoulder as I tuck into his, sobbing. He doesn’t say anything but relieve the pressure of his magic the slightest bit. His fingers grip tightly into my torso as if afraid I’ll fall apart if he lets go. 

After an indiscernible amount of time, I finally quiet down, my shaking stops, and I full relax in Sans embrace. Knowing that I’ve calmed down enough to answer, he ask me one question.

“what happened, bud?”

It was quiet, and tired. As if he already knew the answer somewhat, but needed to ask it outloud. Either its to confirm his thoughts or its to help me sort myself out by talking it out, I still jump at the opportunity. Albeit slowly. So I pull away from him, just barely so I’m facing him, but our arms haven’t let go of the other.

I told Sans that as I was biking through a common market place I traveled through at least once a week for the past six months, a place where people know me and welcome me, I faced my first form of physical harrassment.

In any place of the world, there are good and bad people. Or at least ordinary people who make good and bad choices. Well, either way, I’ve had my fair share of both. Until recently I’ve only gotten the occasional, “Hey Baby! I want to marry you!” or “Musungu! Empleniko five kwacha!”, and I’ve been lucky to only have one form of light sexual harrassment where a man, while shaking my hand, used his index finger to scratch my palm. Meaning, “I want to have sex with you”. Revolting, but not terrifying like the occurrence I ran into tod; what many women, both Zambian and foreign have sadly dealt with before. [Musungu! Empleniko five Kwacha! = Foreigner! Give me five Kwacha! (Kwacha is the Zambian currency)]

I’ve spent many a day complaining and explaining this to Sans, who just can’t seem to get over the fact that non-consent is so prevalent among humans. I told him, that we’re steadily working on this, that we are moving forward slowly, but he just shakes his head incredulously and changes the subject.

As I tell my story to Sans, he almost seems to vibrate. And it grows steadily more intense the more that I talk.

When I tell him of the man who goes to block my path as I’m biking, drink in hand and wobbling along...   
Sans’ eyelights shrink to pinpricks. His hands clench onto me once more.

When as I pass the man, and he reaches out and roughly grabs my left arm, nearly making me fall off my bike and crash...  
Sans’ browbones dip deep down into an angry glare. His usual smile now twisted and bared, his canines grinding angrily as he grit his teeth tightly.

When as I yell at the man, “You Do Not Touch Me!”, that he has no respect, “Tamukwete mucinshi!”, and he just continues to smile and quietly tell me to “Die” over and over and over again...  
Sans’ eyesockets are now devoid of light except for the flame of cyan now roiling in his left eyesocket. A rumble is starting to emmanate from his chest cavity and roar up from behind his fangs.

When I’m looking around to all the people in the crowded market place for someone to stand up and help, but no one does…  
Sans’ glare turns slightly sad now. His own mouth pressed into a thin line, hiding his still tensely grinding fangs. He bows his head for his forehead to rest on mine. His eyesockets close tiredly into a frown.

When I finally just get back on my bike, and pedal as hard and as fast as I can for the next six kilometers until reaching my front door…  
Sans once again envelops me gently and then hugs me tightly, the shaking now caused by his own body as he seemed to struggle in restraint to maintain control over his emotions.

I closed my eyes by this point, just treasuring the warmth Sans’ is radiating, the near silence despite my frantic heartbeat and the soft klick-klack of Sans’ bones, the comforting smell as Sans’ gentle gusts of breath caresses my face as he steadily calms down, the soothing motions of strong hands rubbing my back-

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*   
“ODI!” a woman yells from outside my door. [Odi = a greeting to announce your presence and a request to meet]

We both jump, our foreheads clanking together a bit painfully, and I look to Sans regretfully. He gets the picture, and disappears without a trace. Hearing a creak in the bed, I know where he has gone.

“Odi?” the woman says again.

“Kalibu. Naisa.” I say tiredly as I get up and open the door to see my neighbour has come over to welcome me back. [Kalibu. = Yes, I’ve heard you./or/Yes, come forth. – Naisa. = I’m coming.]

I briefly explain the same thing to my loud-spoken extened family, to which I get some sympathy, but then I politely request that I rest the day and that I don’t want to be disturbed. Mabula, happy as ever to see me, arrives with her and after giving me a round of kisses with some excited whining, then goes off on her next adventure to find wild pigs to chase or kids to play with. 

I take this opportunity to bring my bike inside. A bit cumbersome, but safer in my home than outside exposed to the elements and potential theft. Once that was done, I bolt my door from the inside, casting the broken outside bolt a spare glance, and then meandered over to my single kitchen table of food stuffs for a cup of tea. Three scoops of sugar this time, I think. I’m in need of something sweet. But before I can touch anything, a blue glow encompasses my kitchenware. I look up to Sans, not two feet away, who probably teleported to me as soon as he knew the latch was secure.

“go to bed, kiddo,” Sans quietly begged. “i’ll take care of this.” 

I nod reluctantly and pass him to take the five steps necessary to reach the bedroom. I kick off my shoes, shuffle to the far side to huddle against the wall, and curl up under the covers.

No sooner do I settle than does the smell of sweet tea waft into my nostrils as the mattress sinks from its new passenger carrying precious cargo.

“here ya go, sweetheart. drink up,” Sans whispers quietly.

I prop myself up slightly so I can sip my tea, my eyes sending him a grateful thank you in response to his compassion.

My skeleton friend just watches me, a look of contemplation on his face. After a moment, he sighs, shuffles farther into the bed and after wrapping his arms around me, pulls me toward him so that we’re leaning on eachother, easily supporting the other. A comforting rumble goes through his chest at what he utters next.

“i got ya, katie. i’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is everyone okay?
> 
> cuz it's gonna be okay.
> 
> See you in the next chapter!


	4. we're outta this world - Sans, stop it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, look at that! A semi-long chapter!  
> Hope you enjoy it!  
> And whta is this? FIVE kudos!! *dies*
> 
> Also, the cats are entirely real. (or are they.)  
> SANSDAMMIT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Capitalized = Italicized

Chapter 4

“what are those?” 

I whirl around after quietly latching my door, giving Sans a nervous smile of feigned surprise. The basket in my arms whining from the past six hours of jostling.

“Oh, Sans! Haha, I didn’t see you there!” I awkwardly try to hide the still whining basket behind my back. I continue, “It’s nothing to worry about, I’m just gonna go to the kitchen and-“ 

“kid, we literally live in a 25 ft-squared house,” Sans interrupts me with a non-believing stare. “whatever you’ve got in there, might as well let them loose. they seem pretty cramped.”

My smile wilted at first, but then returned with a florish of excitement.

“Welp! Guess the Cat’s out of the bag!” I announce as I open the bright red basket to reveal two tabby kittens. Brothers to be precise.

I put them down on the ground next to the water bowl I had for Mabula. They desperately lapped up as much as they could, then once finished, started wobbly exploring their new home. One approached Sans with a crack in it’s meow, as if its voice box was broken. Sans knelt down to gently pet the little tom which the kitten gladly accepted with an audible purr.

“That one’s Squeaker,” I state with a matter-of-fact voice. “He’s real gentle and quite the laidback kitty when he’s grabbed for cuddles,” I provide when Sans goes to pick the kitten up. Sure enough, the kitten just melts into his arms, completely at ease, purr even going up a notch.

The other kitten, noticing he was being left out of the loop, made his displeasure of the fact quite clear with a loud and distinct meow with no cracks whatsoever. Somehow that made his call slightly more grating.

“And this one is Smudge,” I conclude as I reach to pick the second brother up. “Named so because his markings just smudge and blend together unlike Squeaker’s. He’s actually a real pain in the arse, always getting into things he shouldn’t and way to clever for his own good,” I say with a slight disapproving frown toward the cat wriggling in my arms. After a moment he finally got comfortable and started smooching his face into my own in affection. I sigh, “But he’s also just as affectionate as his brother.” I give the fuzzball a slight smooch and put him down. Sans copies me and we both subconsciously agree to sit on the reed mat to watch them.

“I couldn’t take them apart when I found them. Whenever one was lost, the other would go yowling trying to find him. They were abandoned to fend for themselves at a camp. Nearly bit off my thumb when I first said hi. But after some food they grew friendly real quick.” 

Sans was quiet during all of this. When I finally gave him a side-long glance, I could see a small smile decorating his face. Yet his eyes seem darker than usual. Was he sad?

“Sans,” I say to get his attention. His eyelights flick towards me, waiting. The darkness under his eyes seemed deeper than usual. I ask cautiously, “Are you okay?”  
Sans blinks at me for a second, as if not understanding the question. He looks to the kittens, and then back at me, when a small nearly imperceptible look of realization dawns on his face. Then he slouches against the wall with a sigh.

I knew it. I didn’t know how, but I did. Something was wrong.

It’s been three months now. During any long period of time spent with a person, you tend to see all sides of an individual’s personality. Their quirks, their habits, their pet peeves, their hobbies. You see the days where they’re feeling great and the days when they’re not. And everyone is allowed to have down days. Sans knows what brings me down most often. Missing my family, friends, favorite foods and everything familiar back home, and then struggling with language and cultural barriers here and not feeling good enough for the job at times.

I know Sans must be feeling a lot of this at times too. Of course he would. He’s mentioned before about his favorite bar of friends where he goes for the best of greasy burg’s you could ever had and a chat with a certain fiery personality. He’s reminisced with me about his favorite jokes he’s heard and pulled on various undergound dwellers. And once or twice, he mentioned another skeleton named Papyrus-

My eyes widen as this all comes back to me.

I snap my gaze to the kittens. Two brothers. Left behind to rely only on each other. Steadfast partners.

Only family they have.

I snap back to look at Sans in mild panic. Sans is just watching me in sad understanding.

“it’s okay, kiddo. none of this is your fault,” he says softly before sliding his gaze back to fondly watch the kittens play-fight with each other. “ya did a good thing. and they’re better off because of it,” Sans continues quietly.

“bet they’re mighty grateful to be together too.”

I can’t help but look at Sans with all the sympathy and pity in the world written across my face. I may be lonely here without my family, but at least I’m around other humans and I can go outside. Sans is a monster and can only marvel at the sky through my windows.

My brow frowns with frustration at that fact as I look down at my hands, bruised and blistered from my gardening work out under the sun. While I nod my head at myself, determined to fix that problem at a later date, my frown turns to one of confusion as I turn back to Sans.

“Why are you here, Sans? Why under my bed of all places? And how?” I finally ask the questions that have burning in my mind’s eye for three months, but never had the opportunity to bring it up until now.

But the answers are not all that satisfying.

“i dunno, kid,” Sans says with a shrug. “one minute i was in Snowdin, taking a shortcut from my sentry post to meet pap at home, when suddenly i’m in your living room.”

“i didn’t know how i got here, and i remember confusedly looking toward the window and seeing the sky for the first time.”

“stars, i was so excited. just the prospect of being underneath the sun made me attempt to teleport into your front yard. but when i tried, it’s like i hit a rubber force field. my magic rebounded and i found myself sprawled on the floor.”

“i was so frustrated. i tried three more times. each time i’m back on the floor. so ironic that after all this time underground, and with the sun so close, i still couldn’t touch it.”

“it was then, that i remembered home. i tried to think of pap and shortcut back to Snowdin, but no dice. back to the floor. i tried again and again and again and again. but nothing! i was on my fifteenth try when i saw you walking up and approaching the door, so i did what any sane person would do in a stranger’s home about to be caught.”

“i hid under the bed.”

After so much being said, the silence was almost deafening. I could only stare into space, picturing it all happening, being in Sans shoes, and thrown into a situation you didn’t sign up for with no idea how to get out of it.

When Sans finished, I do the only thing I thought I could do in this type of situation (and a unique one at that).

I sit flush into Sans’ side and hug him for all his worth, burying my face into his shoulder. I mumble a quiet “Sorry” as Sans returns the hug with his head leaning down to rest on top of mine.

“like i said, bud, it’s not your fault,” Sans says with finality but then continues, “anyway, that was the ‘how’. i seem to remember ya also asked ‘why’.”

Lifting my head up to give him a questioning look, Sans shakes his head.

“no, i don’t know that one either,” he concedes, “but i’m betting that we’ll find out sooner or later.”

I shake my head in acknowledgement and lean my head back on his shoulder tiredly. The kittens had by then passed out into a cute little cuddle pile on the floor, absolutely tuckered out from such a long day of traveling and hitching from car to car until reaching my site. The light in the room was quickly fading with the sun already set and gone. I could already see a slight twinkle of stars through the window into a clear cloudless night.

My idea from before springs forth. I turn towards Sans with a determined look in my eye.

“Hey, let me make a quick dinner, cuz I’m starving. But then help me try something out. If it works, the result will be worth it. You with me?” I spring upon Sans, practically leaving no room for denial.

He just looks at me with a look of trepidation, but then nods the slightest bit, absolutely confused.

“Good. Give me a few minutes,” I say as I hurriedly stand up to cook some quick ramen on my newly inveted spirit stove for the both of us. Just cut a soda can in half, poke some holes in it, flip it so the bottom faces up and place it into a tuna can filled with methylated spirits, set aflame, place your pot on top, and then boom. Boiling water in just three minutes. Okay maybe more. But I’m still hopeful.

After eating our ramen delicacy under a romantic candlelight setting (hey, I’m saving my precious solar light power to charge my phone), I stack my dishes to wash for tomorrow, then gesture Sans to follow me from the kitchen, blowing the candles out as I go. I stop just after three steps at the door. I grab Sans hand, blowing out the last candle to where it’s pitch black apart from the two glowing stars hovering at eyelevel to stare at me.

“We’re gonna go outside,” I tell the nervous skeleton. His hands may not be sweaty, but they were gripping my tightly in anxiety.

“didn’t ya hear me before, kid? i can’t go outside. already tried that,” Sans says with confusion and a little fear. “magical reboundment is not a comfortable event to go through,” he concludes.

“Ah ah ah! You only tried Teleporting. This time, we’re walking out the front door,” I contradict.

“but kid-“ Sans protests again.

“No buts! I’m the only one with a butt here and I say there is no going back! We can do this Sans.” I use a joke to hopefully make Sans more at ease. And though I don’t see his smile, I can hear it with what he says next.

“heh, alright kid. i won’t Butt in again. i trust you.”

“Good. Now don’t look up until I tell you,” I say with finality.

And with that, I open my squeaky door as quietly as I could, take a quick peek around into the darkness, and upon finding no activity amongst the black, I turn and slowly pull Sans with me.

I hear the soft klick-klack of his bones, his nerves betraying him the smallest bit.

Yet with just a few steps, we were Both outside.

Sans seems to freeze and his glowing eyelights look at me in shock. Happy for him, I panic upon a small realization.

“Shit, people can probably see your eyelights! Quick, close your sockets!”

“nah don’t worry, kiddo. i can turn them off.” And with that reassurance, he so did, leaving only the barest of sillouhettes to see him by.

“Awesome,” I say in wonder, then lead him into my fenced yard behind my house where we can have privacy without worry of running into any night traffic.

We go to sit directly behind my house on a patch of dewy grass, hands still entertwined so we don’t lose eachother.

“Okay. Now. Look up,” I tell him with barely concealed excitement.

I don’t even need to tell him that its safe to show his eyelights, because they spring forth into blazing giant orbs when he turned toward the sky.

Where I lived previously in America, I was lucky to live in the country side and be able to see the Milky Way almost bi-weekly with how clear the sky was, devoid of any smoke or light pollution.

Here in Zambia though, the sky has never been clearer. Every night I see the Milky Way and more stars than I think I’ve ever seen in one patch of sky. Not too mention that nothing else above was familiar as the constellations were all different as well. So whenever I’m outside at night, I find myself drawn to the stars, marveling at their sparkle.

At that moment though, my view was entirely upon Sans. 

I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a childlike wonder on a person until now, and Sans was completely floored by what was above him. He just kept turning his head in all directions, soaking it all in, but yet unable to fully comprehend the magnificence before him.

My eyes had finally adjusted to a point that I could even see the full blown out grin upon his face and- was he counting the stars?

“You’ll be out all night if you keep going like that,” I joke at Sans. The words, though whispered, still seemed to loud for the moment as Sans gave quite a start, probably forgetting I was even there. He turns toward me in question. 

I continue, “Not even our astronomers have an accurate count. Whenever they focus on a dark spot, they just find millions more.” This time I finally look up, “It’s infinite.”

The silence returns to surround us again, but this time it isn’t oppressing, but comforting.

“thank you.”

“What for?” I ask as I turn to look back at Sans. He hadn’t returned to staring at the sky like I thought he did. Instead he was focused soley on me.

“for doing this,” he says simply. “for being there for me,” he continues. 

“for being you,” he finishes with the quietest of whispers.

I can’t seem to look away. I’m sure my face is on fire with how hot it is. And is he- is he getting closer? Oh gawd he is. What do I do, what do I d- !

It was ever so gentle. Almost unsure. But it definitely happened. It was still happening. Our hands, still linked together, tightened almost fractionally.  
His ‘lips’ weren’t like what I thought they were. They were pliable but strong, very smooth, and very warm.

My eyes had closed by some point, but I could see a blue glow shining just before my eyelids.

We separated after a few seconds that really felt like hours, and we look at eachother gasping slightly. Yep, his cheeks were awash with a brialiant blow glow.

Not knowing what to do next, I frantically grasp the hood to his sweatshirt and pull it down over his face.

“You’ll give yourself away, you glow-in-the-dark Halloween decoration! People still walk by sometimes!” I say in a rush, wrestling a little with Sans as he protests to being smothered by his own clothing.

When he’s generally covered, I back off and bring my hands to wring in my lap, teeth biting my lip as I return to observing the sky. Is this okay?

After a few quiet moments, a warm porclein hand reaches back to grab one of mine.

“it’s still dark. don’t want to get lost. not right now,” Sans quietly rumbles.

I smile into the dark, relaxing. Yeah, this is definitely okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHATISTHIS?   
> WHAT  
> IS  
> THIS
> 
> Obvious I'm desperate for some Sans loving. No one is allowed to hurt the skele. Only allowed to give hugs.
> 
> *snuggles*
> 
> Next chapter wont be for a while, sorry. Busy busy busy!

**Author's Note:**

> Updates are few and far in between. Please keep in mind, none of these names are that of actual people to protect privacy and identity, though the characters mentioned will be *based* on real people and the actions will be *based* on my own personal experiences.  
> The Sans personified is my version. The character Sans of Undertale does not belong to me, but to Toby Fox. I'm just saying with all the alternate universes and stories, everyone has their own take on things. So this is how I portray Sans in this story. And I love the character so I eventually hope to create a romantic relationship. (please no judge me, I'm a poor wee lamb)
> 
> Also first fanfic I've ever written. Currently also working on a stand alone of my own work (that one is at 45 pages, this one a measly 7 pages).  
> Also also, this is just entirely for fun, I hope you enjoy it, but again updates will hapen in between my projects in service that is my work as a volunteer.  
> So ta-ta! Thanks for reading and I hope to see you next time!


End file.
